How Many Losses Does a Victory Cost?
by DarkPoisonousLove
Summary: The survivors of the war are brought to the Fortress of Light where they can breathe freely now that they've won. But Faragonda has lost too much for it to feel like a victory. Especially after what happened on the battlefield has left her and Hagen with a complicated situation on their hands and feelings that neither of them knows how to navigate.


**A/N: This was inspired by a conversation I had with her_majesty_wears_jeans on tumblr but all the extra angst is my fault. XD**

The door opened quietly and she hated it, for it was so impossibly different from the frantic whirl of panic, helplessness and sorrow in her mind that it seemed like another reality which only made her wish so badly to escape from everything that was happening, just turn away and disappear where no one would ever find her. She also hated it because it didn't seem to have been loud enough to draw Hagen's attention so he had his back turned on her and that hurt. It hurt because she was used to him always looking at her, seeking her out when he was in the same room, but now everything had changed when she wanted it to be the same. Yet, she was left out of breath with her heart constricting in her chest every time it hit her that that would never be the case.

It had all changed and their victory meant nothing in the face of the price they'd had to pay. The world looked different, and not in a good way. It was supposed to be safer but it just seemed more hostile with the unprecedented levels of silence that she could only hope she would never have to get used to, for it was worse than the sounds of blades clashing and people dying. At least they'd fought, but now everything was so stagnant, so... lifeless. There was no laughter or celebrations because they'd won nothing. They'd survived–_some_ of them–but that only forced them to live with the consequences. And that was more terrifying than the war itself.

Her heart broke a little more in her chest when she called Hagen's name but he retained his rigid stance and didn't turn to meet her, didn't greet her, didn't do anything to acknowledge her presence, as if she wasn't there. She was barely functioning anyway, passing through interactions with anyone who hadn't been on the battlefield on autopilot since she wasn't sure she knew how to navigate normal, everyday life anymore, she wasn't sure how to survive the routine that seemed so alien to her now that she was still programmed for battle even though there wasn't one. The war had ended and all she had left were the friends that had survived, so she needed him not to shut her out. She could live without him telling her she was beautiful–there was nothing beautiful in the world anymore, and the things that had once brought her joy now only reminded her of what was lost–but she needed to hear his voice, needed him to look at her again, needed to know she hadn't lost him as well.

"Hagen," she called again as she put a hand on his shoulder, tears instantly filling her eyes and her voice breaking when she felt him tense under her touch. That had never happened before, and the sooner she adapted to the new reality, the sooner it would stop hurting or it would at least hurt less–she doubted so much pain could be cured in one lifetime–but she didn't want to accept it. She couldn't accept it. It was too much, too fast, too overwhelming and terrifying, and she couldn't do it. Not alone. She needed help. She needed to know that not everyone she loved was gone. Yet, all she was met with was heartbreak.

Griffin wasn't ready to talk since she had her own personal tragedy that Faragonda couldn't understand–not after what had happened–no matter how much she wanted to be there for her friend and she'd left her to mourn on her own terms for now. Saladin was still in the infirmary with too many physical injuries that still hadn't healed for her to force him to exert his energy on the psychological torture they had yet to face. And Hagen was avoiding her. It all made her wish to have shared Marion and Oritel's fate whatever that had been since nobody knew what had happened to them. Odds–and the most common bet–were that they were dead. And she still didn't know what to believe. She needed Hagen's support now more than ever.

"Don't blame yourself," Hagen finally spoke but the words were like a slap in the face even though he hadn't moved a muscle. Not to look at her and certainly not to catch her hand since he seemed paralyzed in the trap of the thoughts in his head. And he was trying to provide some comfort but it wasn't working. Not when what had happened on the battlefield was the first thing he would bring up and not when he wouldn't look her in the eyes, when he wouldn't seek her out. He could have shrugged her hand off and it wouldn't have hurt more.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," she said as she withdrew her touch, Hagen's words making the memories play before her eyes even when she tried to push them away. Her insides froze, much like the entire planet of Domino had. She could've died there and the frost would've buried her forever if Hagen hadn't stayed with her. And they'd lost Marion and Oritel instead. Because she'd been injured and he'd stayed behind to protect her. She'd been supposed to fight her own battles. Her teachers at Alfea had told her the Enchantix was the most powerful transformation that could be gained and it would give her the power to guard her realm. But it hadn't been enough to protect even herself and now Domino was a dead planet and her friends were gone.

Hagen turned towards her now that the loss of contact must have snapped him out of his stupor. "None of what happened was your fault," he caught her hand and the warmth of his skin reached through to her now that he was acting like his old self, like the man who was in love with her and hadn't been broken by the loss of his closest friends. "I made the choice to stay with you and I wouldn't change it even if I could." He shouldn't have. He should have gone with them. They'd needed him more than she had because she was still there when they weren't. She could have taken care of herself and she'd told him that but he hadn't listened. He'd put her above them and now they were gone and she couldn't live with that knowledge. It was driving her to pull her hand out of his and run away but there was nowhere for her to go where the truth wouldn't find her. And Hagen had lost enough–they all had–for her to abandon him like that. "I just wish I could have been in two places at the same time," Hagen admitted, his quiet voice breaking her heart, for she'd never heard him quite like that before.

It was hard to look at him and see just a shell of the man he'd been. It was hard to see him so stiff and silent instead of hearing his booming laughter and watching the enthusiasm in his eyes as he explained his latest project. But there were no more projects. His workshop was gone and so were his friends. Their whole lives were destroyed and they'd lost everything to the point where any future happiness–any future _anything_–seemed unthinkable.

Faragonda wrapped her free arm around him and was relieved to feel him return the gesture, the tears falling from her eyes now that she knew he was there to help her pick up the pieces after she broke down and she was safe in his arms. She clutched at the flannel he was wearing as she rested her head against his chest and tried to ignore how forcedly smaller and softer he seemed without his armor, so unlike himself. But he was there–even if he felt like a completely different man–and that was all that mattered, for she didn't know how to move on after all that she'd lost already in a reality that was painfully distant from her.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked, grateful that having her face pressed against his chest muffled her voice enough to make the despair dripping from it less distinguishable even if the fabric under her cheek had absorbed her tears and the wetness probably burned against his skin with the truth. She could drown in the sea of possibilities. There were so many things she could do with her life now that it wasn't constantly on the line, now that she'd gotten it back. But the truth was that she hadn't come back from the war, not the way she'd been before, and any promises of a peaceful future seemed like a cruel joke. How do you move on when you'd been chewed up and spat out only half of what you'd been before, if even that? There was an emptiness in her heart that had once been full of her friends' love but now they were gone and all she had was the loss that would never go away.

"I'll go look for them. I have to," Hagen said, his voice sounding more familiar to her now that it was full of determination but it was still somewhat hushed... as if full of shame. Because of what had happened on the battlefield or because they'd let the Council pronounce not only Marion and Oritel but also their entire planet dead, she didn't know, but she shared the feeling. There was a chance–however small–that they were still out there and needed their help. It would be unforgivable to give up before they'd done everything they could. They couldn't call themselves Marion and Oritel's friends if they took the chance of abandoning them. They had to keep fighting, even if she had no more strength left for anything.

"I'll come with you," Faragonda said as she raised her head to look at him, her tears drying as some remainder of her old self wanted to smile to encourage them both but she couldn't quite remember how to do that, and besides, it would feel misplaced. They still had nothing to smile for and they were running against the possibility of not finding anything either, though, she tried to push that thought out of her mind. She needed something to hold on to if she wanted to survive at least the beginning of that journey.

Hagen's arm was not around her anymore, leaving her with a cold chill running down her spine, and he was pulling away, jerking what little security she felt right out of her heart when his hand left hers. "I... I work better alone," the pause was supposed to soften the blow at least a little since he was obviously trying to be more gentle and let her down slowly but it just hurt more instead, for he'd considered the words and had still chosen to say them even when he knew they'd kill her. He cared, just not enough to stay with her when she needed him. He didn't need her, or worse, he didn't want her with him.

"Yes, we established that," she crossed her arms, trying to keep herself whole, trying to remain in one piece even when everything in her was shattered. He'd stayed with her on the battlefield to make sure she'd live only to leave her now that it had become clear he'd made a mistake. He blamed her and there was no way for her to fight that, otherwise, she would. What was one more battle after the hell she'd been through? But it was all over and she'd lost. He'd made his choice and she'd lost him, too. She could as well have died under the snow. Maybe then at least she would've gotten to be with the people she loved.

"You have people who care about you here, people who love you," Hagen grasped her upper arms as if to shake some sense into her but his touch was gentle and pleading. And it was so low of him to beg her to let him go when he'd been so adamant about holding on to her. "You can't leave them. They need you." But he'd leave her even though she needed him and cared about him, too.

She opened her mouth to tell him but the words wouldn't come out. She couldn't tell him. Because what if he left her even despite that? What if her feelings weren't enough to convince him to stay? He was either ignoring his or he'd stopped loving her, and she didn't want to know which was the case. It would be too much to lose not only him, but his love, too, and she couldn't have anything else taken from her. She barely had anything left.

"You're right," she said, her thoughts drifting back to Griffin and Saladin. She still had them, and she couldn't abandon them like Hagen was doing with her. She couldn't cause them that pain. Not after what they'd been through. "Will you come back?" she asked because she needed to know. She still hoped that she hadn't lost him forever. A part of her had been happy he'd stayed with her because that may have saved his life even if it had doomed Marion and Oritel to death. She still cared about him, still loved him, still hoped he'd have the common sense to see it. She couldn't quite envision a future whether he was there or not but heavens if she didn't want him to stay with her.

Hagen lowered his head, cutting his gaze from hers, and let go of her again. "When I find them," he said in that tone again that told her she couldn't change his mind but he still felt guilty about leaving her. Normally, she'd try to soothe him just like she'd be the first one to go back out and on the battlefield, armed with naive hope to help her look for the friends she didn't want to accept she'd lost. But her heart was so broken it could barely keep her alive for her to burden it with any other tasks no matter how much she wanted to.

She unfolded her arms to cup Hagen's cheek, keeping the tears from falling down her own. "Stay safe, Hagen," she said, her voice trembling, before she lifted herself on her toes and kissed him on the other cheek, pulling away too quickly to give him time to react. She couldn't feel his touch on her only for him to let go of her again.

She tried to keep her pace steady as she walked out of the room and not run towards the door but was relieved to hear it close behind her back, for she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They were flowing out of her eyes and her legs couldn't hold her anymore.

She pressed her shaking hand against her mouth to trap in the sobs that were spilling from her like the water was streaming from her eyes as she slumped on the floor with her back pressed against the wall right next to Hagen's door. She had to move before he heard her muffled weeping and came out to check on her but she didn't have any strength left. And she couldn't understand how the knowledge that she'd have to see him again, look him in the eyes and still let him slip through her fingers, hadn't finished her yet. She had no idea how she'd find it in her to say goodbye one more time when it had felt like death even now that he still hadn't left.


End file.
